August 8, 2013


The bees are now all gone
And only their fruits remain

Harvest time nigh upon us
We must leave summer behind

The days are growing cooler and
The dandelions are fading away

Some trees are already starting
To dress for their autumn ball

Their gowns of burgundy and gold
Soon to drop down to the ground

The last seagull tries calling summer back
Before sadly taking wing to go searching

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